Echoes on the Stairs
by AcrossFandoms
Summary: Elizabeth Darcy. Once full of life and laughter, now literally reduced to a shade of herself. To society, she is dead, but that is far from the truth. Twoshot. Inspired by the fairytale, "The Brother and Sister". Warning: violence, murder, and title and summary will change.
1. Ghosted

Lady Catherine de Bourg arrived at Pemberley with her daughter in tow. She scowled at the smiling sun and muttered curses on Elizabeth Darcy, who had recently borne her nephew a son. The carriage rolled to a stop before her footman promptly assisted her and Anne down. Lady Catherine strutted through the courtyard and into the house, frowning at the flowering, potted plants in the foyer.

"Mother, why have we come to Pemberley?" Anne whispered fearfully. "We were not invited."

"This is your rightful home," her mother responded coolly, "and therefore we have a right to come as we please."

Mrs. Reynolds appeared, saying coldly, "Madam, we were not informed of your coming."

"Does it matter?" Lady Catherine snapped. "Show me to your mistress."

"She is indisposed," the housekeeper said tactfully.

"Then show me to your master."

"He is also indisposed."

"Never mind, then, I shall show myself since I know the way. Come along, Anne." Lady Catherine pushed past the protesting housekeeper and mounted the stairs.

Anne shadowed her mother's steps fearfully, mouthing to the housekeeper that something was amiss. Her mother loudly proclaimed her judgement on the curtains hanging in the windows, the carpeting, and the décor in the hallways. Her menacing frown and a shake of her cane scared many of the chambermaids away. With the footmen, she merely gave them a sharp thump on the head as they endeavored to stop her. Eventually she arrived at the master bedchamber and entered without bothering to knock.

Elizabeth sat in her bed. She turned her pale face towards her unwelcome guests. She greeted them softly with a twinkle in her eyes, "Lady Catherine, Anne, it is surprise to see you. I ask your pardon for next welcoming you in the parlor as it is properly done, but I have been a bit unwell since my son's birth."

"I shall not call you Mrs. Darcy, for you are too impertinent to deserve the title," Lade Catherine sniffed. "Miss Bennet shall do."

"But she is not Miss Bennet anymore," Anne protested.

"Quiet, Anne," Lady Catherine remonstrated harshly, shaking her daughter by the shoulders. "I am claiming what is rightfully yours."

"I do not see how anything is rightfully Anne's," Elizabeth remarked coolly. "You really ought to allow Anne to speak her opinions."

Lady Catherine stalked to the bed and slapped Elizabeth before hissing, "You shall not tell me how I shall control my daughter, and you shall not gloat over your temporary success."

Elizabeth stared Lady Catherine boldly in the face. Though her cheek smarted, she laughed, "I do not gloat, Lady Catherine. I am only happy with my husband's love as he is with mine."

Lady Catherine stuttered in her rage, "Happy! You…you… lying sorceress. What spell did you cast onto my nephew to blind him to my Anne? For all I care, you are a living ghost."

"Mother, that is enough," Anne cried sharply, wordlessly thanking Elizabeth for giving her confidence to stand up to her mother. "We shall leave Pemberley and return to Rosings immediately."

Lady Catherine turned towards her daughter and caned Anne, barked, "I told you be silent!" Anne stumbled to the ground, her sight dimmed by a sudden haze. Through her hazy vision, she watched in horror as the ensuing scene unfold. Her mother knocked Elizabeth unconscious before wetting her handkerchief, placing it firmly on the unconscious woman's face, and drawing the bed curtains. She heard a scream as a maid, she supposed, endeavored to save her mistress before a thud hit the floor. Then, she heard no more. Only darkness.

Three months later, Anne de Bourg became the true mistress of Rosings. With Richard Fitzwilliam's help, the estate was on its way to becoming prosperous again. Her mother, however, was not dead. Rather, she was raging in a lunatic asylum for respectable ladies far away. She endeavored to bring her mother to justice for murdering Elizabeth Darcy, but the jury deemed Lady Catherine's actions because of insanity. As for Fitzwilliam Darcy, he mourned the loss of his wife, cursing himself a thousand times for not being there when she most needed him. To soften his grief, he threw himself into caring for his estate while his sister looked after his son.

However, to the confusion of many, Elizabeth Darcy's body was not to be found. The servants were preparing her body when it just faded away. To keep the fact hidden from the Ton, Mr. Darcy buried an empty coffin. To the world, Elizabeth Darcy was dead, having succumbed to an illness while recovering from childbirth. To Fitzwilliam, he had a glimmer of hope, but believed his wife to be gone. To Georgiana and Jane, Elizabeth was still alive.

* * *

On the full moon of the fourth month after her murder, Elizabeth Darcy wandered the downstairs of her home. She was living ghost, only visible on the full moon. She glided through the halls until she came before a mirror. She could faintly see her reflection. She still wore the light blue dress she would have been buried in. All she saw was a pale, vaporous figure illuminated by the moonlight. She touched the mirror, feeling nothing though her hand did not pass through it. She padded up the stairs, her steps making faint echoes. She crept softly to her son's room. The nursemaid slept soundly in the next. Her son slept restlessly in his cradle. Stooping, she picked up the child, rocking him, and humming a lullaby.

"My darling child," she whispered. "Must you grow up with a ghost for a mother and a grief-stricken hermit for a father?"

When the baby had quieted, she placed him back in his cradle before gliding to Georgiana's room. She heard and knew that her sister-in-law believed that she was still alive. Spotting paper and ink on the desk, she wrote a message for her.

 _If I had a body, I would hug you tightly since you believe I am still alive. Perhaps I should explain my situation. Lady Catherine cursed me to be a living ghost the day she killed my body. Because of that, I am invisible by day and night, excepting the full moon. The reason my body disappeared was that my spirit found itself quite lonely and took the body to join its wanderings. That is what I like to think. I am truly sorry for all the grief my "death" caused. If the curse is broken, I wonder how I can live with a society that thinks me dead. Give my love to my little boy and William, and meet me in the library the next full moon. Elizabeth_

She passed her husband's study, which was situated next to the stairs, and peeked inside. Fitzwilliam sat sleeping with his head on the desk while a lone candle flickered. Sighing she floated to the desk and blew out the candle. She gently touched his head, longing to feel his black tresses. With a feather-light touch on his shoulder, she left him so that she may go haunt Lady Catherine. She knew it was mean of her to taunt the poor lady so, but she so longed to try to persuade Lady Catherine to break the unintentional curse.

During the following month, Elizabeth traveled on the wings of the wind, exploring the world. She visited China, Australia, the Middle East, Africa, America, and anywhere she had a fancy to visit. She listened to lectures from renowned scientists of the day, attended lessons by the finest artists and pianists, and paid her respect to the courts of Europe. In her wanderings, she discovered an abandoned château in France. There, she made her residence as she did not want to give Pemberley the reputation of being haunted. Whenever she was not travelling, she was in the chateau. The chateau was a beautiful estate, furnished with every luxury a lady dreamed of: fine dresses, jewelry, a beautiful piano, a large array of sewing and painting supplies, a stunning library, and liberty. Since she could not sleep since she was a ghost, she practiced the accomplishments, namely the pianoforte, she never had time for. She also wrote. She wrote of her adventures abroad, weaving them into a fanciful tale to delight children and adults alike. The day before the full moon, she returned to Pemberley and left a message to Georgiana, reminding her of their meeting.

That night she waited in the library when the door creaked open. Georgiana paled, seeing her sister-in-law's wraithlike form. She whispered, "Elizabeth?"

"Sit down," Elizabeth commanded gently. "I believe I already explained my situation to you."

The girl released a shaky breath and nodded. She asked, "Who else knows? How do you fare?"

"Jane, and being the sweet soul she is, she promised to keep quiet of my existence." Elizabeth then explained her life in detail for a full hour. She concluded, "I wrote several books, but they are unpublished."

Her interest further piqued, Georgiana requested, "May I see them? Perhaps I may be able to publish them for you."

Elizabeth smiled, "I must go fetch them, but it should only take me a few minutes." She disappeared through the open window. Half an hour later, she returned, apologizing, "I beg your pardon for keeping you waiting. I forget that a few minutes for me are longer for you." She placed a large basket on the floor and carefully pulled out several bundles of paper.

" _Poems of the Far the East_ translated by E.B Dare. _A Finch Called Ellie, Flicker of Life_ ," Georgian read off from the visible pages of a few of the bundles. "You wrote all this?"

"I write under the name of E.B. Dare," Elizabeth noted absentmindedly. " _Flicker of Life_ is a fictionalized version of my life. I used to write at Jane's before I found an empty chateau in France. I have so much time since I cannot sleep or eat."

Georgiana sat silently on the floor before observing the lateness of the hour. She bade Elizabeth goodnight and promised to see her next month. Before leaving Pemberley again, Elizabeth visited her son, smiling and whispering how he has grown so much.

For the next few months, Elizabeth visited both Jane and Georgiana, often bringing some trinket from the France and a new project of hers. Sometimes it was painting, other times it was a new book or some craft she learned. At times, both her sister and sister-in-law detected weariness and grief in Elizabeth's voice. Other times, they heard her merrily laugh at her situation, her voice tinkling like a distant bell. Deep in their hearts, they knew Elizabeth would willingly give up the advantages of being bodiless to become human again.


	2. More Dead than Alive

Darcy sat on the rug in the parlor, building towers of painted wooden blocks with his ten month old son, William. The baby gurgled happily as he knocked the tower down. After a few minutes of building and knocking down towers, the babe started crawling towards the lit fire in the hearth.

"No, William," Darcy chuckled, grabbing his adventurous son. "The fire is warm and fascinating, but deadly. The garden is much safer than the fire." He carried William to the garden and set him down on the grass. In his mind's eye, he could see Elizabeth showing their son the leaves of a bush. He closed his eyes for a brief second, savoring the picture that might have been. A happy gurgle interrupted his thoughts. His eyes snapped open and to his surprise, his son stood on his feet with his arms raised as if someone was helping him. William took one faltering step, and Darcy hurried to his son, hands held out to catch William should he fall. Again, his imagination cued a picture of Elizabeth holding their son through his first steps.

That night after putting William to bed, Darcy headed towards his study. He gazed lovingly at the portrait of his wife on the mantel. The painter failed to capture the merry twinkle in her eyes, but there was merriment in her face. He tried to remember the sparkle in her eyes and the mischievous twitch in her lips. It was all a faded memory. Bowing his head, he wept. A soft knock interrupted his grief. It was his sister.

"What troubles you, brother?" she asked gently, taking his arm and leading him to a chair.

He dried his tears, sighing, "I am forgetting Elizabeth. Sometimes, she feels so near as if she was present. At other times, I cannot remember the life dancing in her eyes. Must William not know his mother?"

"Perhaps it is time I told you something," Georgiana answered after a heavy silence. "When William was still a newborn infant, I often heard echoes on the stairs at nights. It was not like that of a footman or servant. It was more angelic. On full moons, I thought I saw her shape in the nursery." Though she knew the truth, she dared not voice it so openly to her brother.

Darcy's face hardened. He muttered darkly, "Ghosts do not exist. You must be going mad."

Georgiana gazed at the dancing flames. She replied softly, "Perhaps that may be so, but unusual circumstances warrants unusual happenings." She rose and bid her brother goodnight.

Two months later, Darcy received a letter from the asylum where he and his cousin Anne placed Lady Catherine. The letter simply requested the presence of Mr. Darcy for a single day as Lady Catherine would not stop asking for him. Darcy reluctantly agreed to go after his sister persuaded that he may learn something beneficial.

It was the anniversary of his wife's death when he arrived at the lunatic asylum. It seemed like a respectable establishment. Vegetables and flowers thrived inside the walled gardens. The house itself was covered in ivy, flowers bloomed outside a few window boxes. Some windows were barred with iron, but others were not. Richard Fitzwilliam had chosen well.

Upon entering, Darcy gave his name to the warden and showed the letter. He was promptly admitted to a well-furnished room with one wall made entirely of iron bars. On his side of the bars, it was almost cheery with the crackling fire, yellow curtains, Oriental rug, and vases full of blooming flowers. On the other side, there was only a wooden chair and barren, white walls. One of the attendants explained that some of their patients became quite violent when a visitor came. Darcy waited five minutes until he saw his aunt approach and rose to his feet out of habit.

"You look well," he said stiffly after a few minutes of awkward silence. Lady Catherine did look quite well. She still bore herself as a queen would, but her hair was grayer. She was also less ostentatious in appearance. Her clothing, though well made, was of a simple and rather becoming cut for her.

"Tolerably well," she answered coldly. "There is a matter of great importance I must speak to you about. Firstly, I must apologize for my actions last year. I confess I was insane at that time, but I have recovered my senses."

Darcy hardened his gaze, answering through clenched teeth, "I do not know how one can forgive considering the wrong done."

Lady Catherine glanced at her nephew sharply. She said in subdued tone, "And I must live with the guilt. Guilt sometimes unbearable, but I have the forgiveness of one to make the guilt more bearable." She paused to give her nephew a chance to speak. Finding he had no response, she continued, "I have the forgiveness of God and Elizabeth."

"The forgiveness of Elizabeth?" Darcy cried, rising to his feet. His face flushed with the anger that coursed through him. "Do not mock her name in such a way."

"I beg you to allow me to finish," Lady Catherine said sternly. "I may be in a madhouse, but I am still a lady and deserve such respect." Darcy nodded stiffly and seated himself. She continued, "What I am about to say will condemn me to stay in this house forever. Well, considering my actions, this place is far better than others. As I was saying, I saw Elizabeth on several occasions. It was only when the moon was full. She was far too pale to be human, yet not translucent enough to be ghostly. A bluish radiance emitted from her form. She did not quite seem a ghost, yet she was not alive. She wanted me to break the curse that made her into what she called a "living ghost". I am no witch, but my hatred must have made me one at that moment. Of course, I could not break it, but I begged her forgiveness, which she has granted. Now, I ask for yours."

Darcy's conversation with his sister from two months ago rose to his mind. He sat silently, contemplating both her sister and aunt's words. Finally, he said gravely, "I cannot give you my forgiveness right now, but I shall not discredit your story as being the ravings of a madwoman. Perhaps you are saner than I am." He rose to his feet and bowed, "Good day, Madam." He immediately departed the house. He arrived home the next day and immediately called for his sister to meet him in his study.

His sister came promptly, questioning, "Is everything alright? Do you not need to rest? How is Lady Catherine? Did she anger you?"

"Enough questions," Darcy answered wearily, seating himself in his armchair. "Order some tea and refreshments, and I shall be quite well."

Georgiana did as her brother bid. When the tea arrived, she poured her brother a cup. After sipping his tea, Darcy began, "She told me she saw Elizabeth in a ghostly form. Have you seen Elizabeth as well? You hinted at it when we last discussed this topic."

"Yes, I have," Georgiana answered boldly. "Jane has as well. We have been working to help her publish some of her stories and paintings. I am sure she visits Pemberley more than she says to care for you and William."

"Is that why I sometimes felt her so near?" Darcy wondered aloud. "I could not see her, yet I felt her presence. Is there any way I can see her myself?"

"The moon is waxing, and it should not be long until it is full," Georgiana replied. "I have not seen Elizabeth for two months, but Jane sends me word that Elizabeth is doing well."

For the next week, Darcy waited impatiently for the full moon. To ease the passage of time, he busied himself with extreme care over his son and estate. Then one day at breakfast, his sister ordered him to wait in the empty closet in the library that night after supper.

The day passed slowly. As soon as dinner concluded, Darcy excused himself to research historical records of the estate in the library. Naturally, his sister merely sighed and rolled her eyes while the servants did not notice anything amiss. Once Georgiana has finished feeding and changing William, she brought him to library. While Georgiana played with the active one year old, Darcy twisted his cravat a million times. The clock struck ten, and William began dozing in Georgiana's arms. Then he heard a strange echo coming from the stairs outside the library. It was most definitely not the footsteps of a human. After that, he heard nothing. Suddenly, he saw a nearly translucent figure with a faint blue light enter through a window.

Georgiana whispered loudly, "Elizabeth! How came you through a closed window?"

At this, Elizabeth burst into tears. Seating herself on an armchair, she sobbed, "I am becoming a real ghost! From what I have researched, ghosts pass through solids. I tried entering through the wall, but I suppose I am not ghost enough. But apparently, I am ghost enough to enter through windows. Ghosts are emotionless beings who wander the earth without purpose. I have already begun to lose interest in my activities and traveling. Half of the time, I follow the wind, not caring where it takes me."

Georgiana offered her the sleeping William, but Elizabeth shook her head sadly. "Do you think my brother has something to do with your changing state?" Georgiana questioned gently. "He once said that…"

"That's when I started changing," Elizabeth answered slowly. "I was in the Sahara when I suddenly felt a chill come over me. Of course, I knew something to be wrong since the Sahara is supposed to be anything but cold."

Darcy could not restrain himself. In as dignified manner as possible, he burst from his hiding place. Elizabeth rose, trembling like a leaf on a stormy autumn evening. Darcy stood in front of his wraithlike wife and began heatedly, "This will not do. In vain, I have struggled to convince myself that you had passed. But you, though I realized it not, had kept hope alive within me. I suppose you may be more dead than alive, but it matters not me. I beg of you to stay with me forever, even if I can only see you once a month."

Elizabeth had seated herself. Instead of shaking with fear and grief, she now shook with laughter. Soon, her laughter, which brought pictures of merry bells and springtime to mind, filled the room. She wheezed, though her wheezing sounded like the soothing rustling of the wind, "If I did not love you, I would declare your words to be quite offensive. And if I had not married you, I would have given you the same answered I did in Hunsford, though I regret my words that day."

Darcy glanced towards his sister questioningly, who smilingly remarked, "You did call her more dead than alive." At that moment, William stirred in his sleep, and Georgiana took the opportunity to put him to bed.

Taking Georgiana's vacated spot on the sofa, Darcy flushed and buried his head in his hands, muttering, "Why can I not say things correctly?" He felt warm hands on his own. Looking up, he gazed in wonderment at Elizabeth. Her cheeks, though pale, were tinted with color. Laughter and life danced in her eyes. He stroked her cheek and touched her hair, affirming what his eyes saw. He cried joyfully, "You…you are alive! Oh, Elizabeth, if I had known sooner…"

"Am I 'more dead than alive' now?" she laughed with warmth. Her voice lost its bell-like quality, but it was all the sweeter to her husband.

He smiled lovingly, "You shall never let me forget that, will you?"

She shook her head and took his hand. She led him up the stairs. Instead of hearing echoes, they heard the soft thud of human feet. They passed the nursery, and Elizabeth kissed her sleeping son. At Georgiana's door, Elizabeth knocked. Georgiana came to the door in her nightgown, but her face lit up when she saw Elizabeth in human form. After hugging her goodnight, she bade them to not make too much noise. Darcy and Elizabeth merely smiled and continued to their room. Upon entering, they shut the door to the world.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note :** And yes, that's it. I did warn you that this would be a two shot. Now here's some good news. I think that I left enough plot holes for me to return to expand on this story should I have the inspiration. However, if there are suggestions (and corrections) for what sort of events could have taken place, do let me know. I can only come up with a limited number of ideas._

 **I must thank you all who have taken the time to review, favorite and/or follow this story. It meant a lot to me and spurred me to write this chapter in practically one sitting. So, as a thank you gift, I'd like to know how you would title and summarize this story since _Echoes on the Stairs_ does not quite fit. Let me know, and I'll rename the story and rewrite the summary accordingly and give you the credit. Again, thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this as much as I had enjoyed writing it!**

* * *

Oh, and just in case you are wondering, I mentioned that this is inspired by a fairytale. I do not remember the title, but I do remember the plot. So here's the overview of that fairytale. A young woman and her brother are mistreated/abused by their stepmother and stepsister. So, they run away of course. After running for a while, they become thirsty (of course). The river tells them that drinking from the river would turn them into an animal. This happens another two times with the river warning them of the kind of animal they would become. At last, the brother becomes desperate and drinks. He becomes a talking young buck. Naturally, his sister, who was asleep when her brother drank from the river, becomes distressed. She places her handkerchief around the buck's neck (you know, to mark him as her brother and not a random wild buck). They come to an abandoned cottage and make their residence. After some time of living in happy solitude, the king goes a'hunting. And of course, the young lady's brother/buck begs to participate and leads the hunting party on a merry chase. This happens another two times with brother buck being wounded. The king, not wanting to lose his prize comes to the cottage and discovers the young lady and her buck for a brother. Being a young, unmarried king, he decides to marry the young lady as she was really quite beautiful. So of course they marry and have a son. Now the stepsister and stepmother hear of their stepsiblings' good fortune. (And fairytales don't tell us how and why or I just don't remember). So, the stepmother and stepsister disguise themselves as maidservants and gain admittance to the young queen's room while the king is away (and in my opinion, the steward was very foolish to let in two strangers into the castle in the first place.) Now the queen was still weak from childbirth. The stepsister and stepmother drag in a huge pot of water, close all the windows, and let the room become a sauna. Of course, the queen suffocates from the lack of fresh air and all that. So with the queen dead (I don't know what the step-relatives do to the body), the stepmother has her daughter take the queen's place in bed. Since the daughter is quite atrocious in appearance, the stepmother covers her daughter's face with a veil. When the king arrives home, he insists on seeing his wife. The stepmother tries to stop him, pulling the "Oh, she's not well enough" excuses. Unfazed, the king discovers the treachery and has the step-relatives killed (I think.) However, the queen is still dead. So, two days later, the nursemaid comes to the king and says that she's been seeing the queen's ghost come nurse the child, say how many more times she will come again, and disappear. That night, the king witnesses the queen come up, looking very much like a ghost and chained to a monster, nurse her child, and bemoan that this was the last time. Being the impulsive man he is, the king jumps out, crying, "You must be beloved wife!" (Or something like that.) And everything ends up happily ever after once the brother is returned to human form. Of course, I may have mixed up some details, but this is only the bones of that fairytale.


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